Film
by IDontOwnEmotion
Summary: Goes along with To Dance! About Mark. MR. Chapter 5 is smutty
1. Adventure

Film-chapter 1

I'm watching Men's Figure Skateing so obviously I'm in a slashy mood

This story somewhat goes with To Dance! but it's not neccesary to read that.

Another holiday came and went and still I do not own Rent (hey I rymed)

Rating-PG right now. will probably devolope over time depending on how much figure skateing I watch.

Mark/Roger

(also in this story the chapter names will most likely have nothing to do with the content of the chapter)

_Adventure..._

Mark sighed heavily as he heard a door slam closed beneath him. _Here we go again_. He thought with an air of defeat. It was like clockwork. Mimi and Roger fight. They make up. She goes out. She gets high. She comes back. They fight again. Nothing ever changed. Another thing that never changed was the fact that Roger would always take that walk of shame up back to the loft after one of these never ending cycles to seek comfort in the arms and words of his best friend. Mark would always be the glue, he relized. He was the shoulder to cry on. He was the one who could ultimatly fix everything. He was going to be the one to survive.

Mark carefully set his beloved camera down on a milk crate and stared towards the industrial sliding metal door. He could almost count the seconds until Roger would burst into the loft, Mark would give him a sympathetic look, Roger would go into his room, Mark would follow, they would eventually talk about it and Roger would be convinced into going downstairs and apologizing. Nothing ever changed.

A rush of cold air entered the loft along with a destressed looking Roger. He glared breifly at a worried looking Mark sitting on the couch with his hands folded on his lap before storming off into his room. It wasn't long until the sound of a guitar being tuned floated across the loft. Mark hung his head in exhaustion. _Better get this over with._ He decided.

Mark padded across the loft's wooden floor and knocked softly on Roger's worn and beaten door. When he did't get an answer he walked right in. He found Roger exactly where he knew he'd be. Sitting crosslegged on his bed furiously tuneing his guitar. Mark knelt down by Roger's bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked thoughtfully.

"No" Roger replied simply...exactly like he always did.

"Well you're going too." Mark said forcefully.

"I just don't get it!" He half shouted, half sobbed. "I...I thought if she loved me she would stop useing. Doesn't she get it? Doesn't she understand that the thought of me being without her is enough to put me in hysterics?...Does she even care?" Mark slowly rubbed Roger's back like he always did. "Roger I'm sure Mimi loves you as much as you love her, and I have full confidence in her ability to quit."

"YOU DON'T GET IT!" Roger yelled as he pushed Mark off his bed. "Get out." he said simply turning his attention back to the guitar...isolating himself.

It was going to be a long night. Mark left the room to let Roger cool off a little and situated himself back on the threadbare couch in frount if his camera. Mark sighed again. _You suck._ he thought._ Do you know that. Are you aware that you are slowly loseing the ability to make Roger's last few years as happy as possible? You're not glue. You're like that sparkle paste they give to kindergardeners that never sticks to anything. You're loseing it Marky. Soon you're life will be a compleate waste._

"Shut up!" he said into the darkness. He needed to occupy himself. He looked toward the "kichean" and slowly got up. He made tea for himself and coffee (with like a million sugar packets) for Roger. He cautiously opened the door to Roger's room. It seemed as though he hadn't moved at all since he kicked him out. Roger looked up and took his coffee greatfully. He tasted it and smiled up at Mark. It was his way of apologizing. "I should talk to her." he said. "You two can move past this. I know you can. You've been through much worse over the years." Mark certainly had a way with words. "You're right." He admitted. "Tommorrow." He promised. Mark gave Roger a small smile and ruffled his hair before riseing and walking out of the room. _I am super glue. _He decided.

Sinking into bed that night Mark couldn't shake off that feeling he sometimes got. A feeling of being alone. _It's funny, _he thought, _how glue can fix everything so perfectly and dry invisible._

Nothing ever changed.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Tell me what you think. I'm trying desperatly to make the chapters long.


	2. Tedium

Film-Chapter 2

Title: Film

Author: IDontOwnEmotion. aka Becca the boho

Summery: Mark does...some stuff...and then stuff happens...i suck

Rating: Moving into PG-13 for stuff I can't talk about because it will give away plot

Disclaimer: Another holiday season came and went and still I do not own Rent

_...tedium..._

From the minute Mark woke up that morning he knew something was wrong. He awoke from his restless slumber in the mid-morning to complete silence. Everything to Mark was a routine. His morning routine happened to be, wake up to sound of Roger tuning his guitar, have a bowl of Capt'n Crunch, remind Roger to take his AZT, obsess over film shots in a dark room for hours on end.

So of course Mark began to panic when he discovered the absence of Roger's guitar. Slowly rising from the comfort of his mattress, Mark made his way to Roger's room. Standing by the door Mark could hear ragged, uneven , rattling breaths, escaping pained lungs. Throwing open the door Mark rushed over to a sweating, shaking Roger curled up in his bed sheets. Mark stroked Roger's head gently while Roger turned to the other side of the bed and coughed long and load. When he pulled away Mark was revolted to see the bed sheets stained blood red.

"I'm calling an ambulance." Mark said urgently getting up from his place on the floor.

"No...don't...I'm fine...I hate the" Roger pleaded between earth shattering coughing fits.

"Roger, you're going to the hospital whether you like it or not!" Mark shouted this over his shoulder while he was on hold with 911.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Mark sat hours later in an uncomfortable waiting room chair. A nervous twitch of his was acting up and he couldn't stop tapping his fingers. Wild uncontrollable thoughts raced through his head. _He won't make it_, his mind told him. _He's already had too many close calls. Roger can't be that lucky. Of course you thought roger would always be there. You thought he had plenty of time left, but I knew. You should have known it too. Every day when you reminded him to take his AZT. You could see him slipping away before your very eyes. Face it Marky. His time has come and soon you'll be all alone._

"No." Mark whispered to himself. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. He better get a hold of himself. People were starting to stare.

A gentleman in a white uniform strode over to Mark.

"Mark Cohen?" He asked

"Yes." Mark resonded trying very hard to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"Mr. Davis..._Has slipped away. We're so sorry. We did everything we could..._is upstairs..._In the morgue. Crying out to see you one last time. Slipping every second I talk to you..._He is fine. His condition is stable, and he wants to see you.

"Oh thank God!" Mark sighed pushing his way through the crowd of people in the waiting room.

Mark couldn't help takeing the stairs two at a time. He was incredibly relieved Roger was going to see another day.

Stopping at an open doorway Mark smiled as he looked in on a perfect, sleeping Roger.


	3. No Family

Film-chapter 3

Rating- Likely to stay at PG-13 in this chapter

Pairing- Marky/ Rog Rog

Disclaimer- Still don't own it but hey there's a few days of Hannukah left

This Chapter is dedicated to the first person who reviews. Even if it's a flame.

_...no family..._

Mark sat in that little white room for over 3 hours waiting for Roger to wake up. He could wait for Roger forever, Mark decided. Roger was like his brother...no more than a brother...Mark and Roger were closer than family. Friendship is thicker than blood. Mark supposed he loved Roger. At least loved him more than he loved his own family.

Mark's childhood up until he was 13 years old was fairly normal. He had a loving mother and a supportive father and even his sister wasn't half bad. Mark had always loved his father dearly. He was the one who gave Mark his first camera when he was 10. He was the artist in the family, haveing lived the bohemian life himself many years ago. He and Mark were very close. Mark looked up to him. That is, he did until the accident.

Mark's lonely mother eventually remarried to a wealthy business man who didn't appreciate her. Mark no longer had someone to look up to. He looked to his camera for comfort, burying himself in his art. While his older sister Cindy graduated law school and started her own firm, Mark sort of faded into the shadows. Getting buried deeper and deeper until it was hard to breath and impossible to get out.

His mother and step-father forced Mark into going to Brown and majoring in business, like his step-father. Later that year Mark dropped out and he and his roommate Benny found a cheap industrial loft to live in. Mark and his father haven't directly spoken since. Mark met Roger six months later when his band was playing a gig at CBGB's. Mark thought he had never seen anyone the camera loved more (well maybe except for Maureen.) Roger had grown up in the city and Mark loved nothing more than their days spent wandering through Alphabet City talking about art.

Their friendship blossomed and Roger moved in with Mark and Benny...So did his baggage. No alot of people could probably handle Roger's drinking and drugs and anger, Mark realized, but there was something about those days spent together that created this brotherly bond between the two that no drug or girlfriend could ever touch.

The next year Roger got sick. Mark forced Roger to give up the smack, because he loved Roger like a brother and he already had enough of his family leave him. He needed Roger to survive as long as he could. Then Mimi came into the picture and once again Mark faded into obscurity. Failed screenplay after failed screenplay forced Mark to try a documentary. That was a year of passion and love for all of his friends, but not Mark. Roger had Mimi, Maureen had Joanne, Collins had Angel. What did he have? His life? A future? Years to live? It didn't matter if he was just going to be alone.

Shortly after that year ending with Mimi's brush with death and the binds tightening on the friends, trouble began again. Mimi refused to give up her smack and her life to be some little housewife for Roger. Roger couldn't understand. Roger had quit out of love (though it was a differant kind of love) so why couldn't Mimi. Perhaps Mimi didn't love him. Roger's health declined steadily.

That's where we are today. Mark waiting in this little white room waiting for Roger. He'd wait for Roger forever. That's what brothers did.

Roger's eyelids fluttered opened and he glanced around, slightly afraid, at his surroundings. Roger's eyes grew wide and he started to hyperventilate.

Mark just grasped his hand tighter and stroked his hair. "Shh..." he soothed. "It's okay Roger. It's gonna be okay."

The gentleman from before stepped into the room. He had a somber look on his face and a clip board in his hands.

"Ah, Mr. Davis. Glad to see you are awake. I'm afraid I have a bit of bad news. We took at blood test and it seems your T-cells are lower than we would like. So we're going to bring your AZT..."

"I don't have any money." Roger inturrupted.

Mark went back to trying to soothe Roger "We'll find a way." He whispered.

"Um...yes." the docter continued. "You will also need to make some lifestyle changes Mr.Davis. You seem to be malnourished and under quite alot of stress. My best medicine for you would be, drop all the stress or get out of New York."

A question was pulling at Roger's heart. "How long?" He asked.

Mark hung his head in an attempt to hide his tears.

"A year and a half at most. I'm very sorry Mr. Davis."

And with that he left the room of a distraught Mark and a stern looking Roger.


	4. Boring Locations

Film-chapter 4

I'm doing this instead of homework so i hope you guys like it.

This one is PG-13, but be patient, my darlings, for the slash is upon us.

_...boring locations..._

Roger was silent the entire subway ride home. No other experience Mark had with Roger could ever even begin to prepare him for this news. Roger was going to leave him...sooner than he thought. Mark just kept turning the thought over and over in his head. It sounded more foreign and unbelievable each time he thought about it...A life without Roger Davis.

Roger was part of Mark's never ending routine. Always there on the couch writing his one great song before...Mark was struck with the sickening thought that Roger would never write his song in the little time he had left. The deep dark feeling twisted his stomach in knots. But Roger was a lot more than just part of his monotonous life. Roger was his best friend, his brother.

Mark slid the door of the loft open and turned to face Roger. To anyone else his face was bland and unfeeling, but Mark saw past the facade. Roger's emotion was always in his eyes.

Blazing emerald met ice blue and there was pain and fear and a cry for help. There was hurt and anger and a million nameless emotions all hidden in those eyes. No words needed to be said.

"I need to tell her." Roger said after a moment of silence. His voice was rough and hard. Like stone. Mark just nodded in agreement, still to shocked to find his voice.

About an hour later Mark heard the familiar sound of Mimi shouting from downstairs. Mark knew the old routine would never come back. There would be no more comforting Roger and telling him to go back to Mimi. There was only keeping Roger alive as long as possible.

The shouting was soon met my complete silence for a moment or so. Roger's walk of shame was slower this time. He might want to savor it. It would be his last. At last the door slid open again and Mark was sure he heard the faint sounds of sobbing from downstairs.

Instead of going into his room Roger plopped down next to Mark, receiving a protesting whine from the ratty couch.

There was a long quite moment in which both boys stared at the floor or the walls or their hands...anything, but each other.

Finally Roger spoke in a voice that was cracked with promising tears. "I don't want to leave." he choked out before breaking down into body wreaking sobs.

Mark moved over to the other side of the couch and wrapped his arms around Roger in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. Roger immediately returned the hug, pressing his body as close to the smaller man as he could get. Mark rubbed Roger back and whispered calming things in his ear. Sweet, innocent nothings with absolutely no meaning.

"Roger, everything is going to be fine. You know that no matter what I am always going to be here for you. I can't even think about you going away." Then he slipped "You mean everything to me Roger. I love you."

There was that moment again when blazing emerald met ice blue...and there was a connection. In those beautiful eyes Mark saw, not repulsion or disgust, but compassion and understanding and...and...and love.

I happened so fast there was no way any person on the face of the earth could ever stop it. Mark felt soft lips on his and there was a moment caught in time that lasted a millisecond, but to them felt like it lasted 1000 years. Then the kiss became fiercer. A fight for dominance as teeth clashed and tongues forced their way past virgin lips. Sure they had both kissed people like this before, but this...this was much much different.

Hands roamed with curiosity and pure lust.

The kiss ended when the boys landed on the floor with a dull thud.

"Do you have any...?" Mark questioned curiously

Roger nodded furiously "Bedroom." He said...

To be continued. Yes I am aware that I suck. I'll probably post it tomorrow or tuesday though.


	5. Dark Rooms

Film-chapter 5

Rushes in I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!  
Damn…writers block sure does bite you in the ass.

Smut smut smutty smut. You have been forewarned.

desclaimer: Jonathan Larson ate like 3 1/2 mini wheats a day while writing Rent so...he owns it.

One more thing. This chapter is told in first person. Mark's point of veiw. So it will be different.

...dark rooms...

A light, breathy moan escaped the captivity of those perfect lips. Roger's lips are really a fascinating phenomena. Years and years of living the life of a rocker has permanently made Roger's lips chapped and tender and sexy as hell. I leaned in to ravish that perfectly flawed mouth. Teeth clashed as Roger fought his way past my lips. I got a rise out of the thought that he has probably wanted this as long as I have.

We stumbled into Roger's bedroom and I soon found myself pinned to the bed with my hands twisted above my head and Roger still kissing me. Never stop kissing me. "Roger…please." I called needy, trying very hard to press into Roger's hips. "Shhh…" He said back, soothingly rubbing my shoulders.

"It'll be okay…everything will be okay." I nod, feeling, and liking, his hot breath ghosting across my skin.

Roger reached down and started to undo the buttons on my shirt very slowly. He had my wrists pinned together and all I could do was moan and thrash as his hands worked magic. I was completely loving this. How could Roger be dominating like this, but at the same time so sweet and caring…Frankly I didn't care, I just wanted him to never stop touching me.

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, I was only brought back down by Roger's mouth gliding across the heated skin on my stomach. I let out a sharp gasp, clenching my eyes closed.

I feel Roger's tongue circle my nipple before his teeth clamped down, I let out a sharp cry of pain mingled with pleasure. God that felt so good. Being alone with Roger in my dark bedroom. His mouth working my body towards absolute ecstasy.

"Please Roger…I need you." I tried again. I'm certain I saw a flash of that old smile when he looked up at me with a questioning look in his eyes.

We were stopped only for a moment when Roger reached for a condom on his bedside table. Then only another moment as Roger looked between me and the condom. There was a pained and terribly troubled look in those deep green eyes that I was so in love with. I knew his biggest fear right now was hurting me. I rubbed his hip soothingly, telling him mentally 'It's okay. I love you. Everything will be okay.'

After what seemed like an eternity (and I would wait for him that long.) Roger made up his mind and quickly slipped his jeans off. It took a millisecond for him to slip the condom on and then he was oiling his fingers up with lube.

It really hit me then, once Roger's fingers were positioned underneath me and I was spreading my legs and arching my hips, that's when it hit. Roger and I were about to make love.

I gave him an innocent, reassuring smile as he hesitated. I saw him nod lightly before a thick finger entered me and my senses exploded in a wild feeling of exhilaration.

I couldn't keep my mouth shut through the whole ordeal and I moaned and cursed loudly. Very soon, Roger pulled out and kissed me softly as he slathered the remainder of the lube on himself. He entered me swiftly with a choked back, wild-like moan. I grinned at how little control he had right now.

Roger started a slow rhythm of gentle lovemaking until I was panting and begging him to give me more. I clutched onto his back as he went faster, my fingernails digging into the skin hard enough to leave welts.

"Roger…I'm gonna…oh…ROGER!" I screamed as I climaxed, spilling all over my front. Roger was soon to follow, filling the walls of the condom. We laid for seconds staring at each other and trying to sort out what just happened between us. Lust? Need? Want?…Love?

Roger pulled without a word and stood up slowly, tossing the condom away. He began to pull on his jeans. "Rog…?" I whispered, hoping he would just come lay with me. He shook his head, looking a little scared as he left the room. Seconds later I heard the front door slam. 'Yup…nothing ever changes.'

A/N: Again…so sorry. I love you all. 


	6. Perfect Faces

Film- Chapter 6

Yay! On time chapter. Ha cha! So only a couple more chapters. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I LOVE reviews. More than I love food…and I love food a lot.

All stuff is owned by Jonathan Larson because he rocks out loud.

…perfect faces…

Mark stared at the door for two whole hours before realizing that Roger wasn't going to come back. He let out a long, cathartic sigh, feeling in some way, like a failure. He'd finally told Roger that he loved him. They made love. Everything was supposed to be perfect. But Roger ran away…just like always. Mark had lived with Roger for almost 5 years. He knew him better than anyone. And Mark knew that Roger would never hesitate to run away from his problems.

Mark slowly got out of bed, leaning against the wall for support as he padded across the loft.

Mark carefully made his way to the bathroom and grabbed his tooth brush.

He tried fiercely to scrub the taste of Roger's booze and cigarettes of his mouth. He suddenly felt that what they had done was filthy and wrong, instead of beautiful and loving like it was supposed to be.

Mark suppressed the urge to cry as he looked at himself in the mirror. He cringed. No wonder Roger left. Mark looked like crap!

His eyelids sagged from his loss of sleep over the past…years. They drooped down over his bleak blue eyes, duller and blurrier than he remembered.

His skin was a pasty and unhealthy gray color. Mark reached up and ran a hands through his sweat soaked, dirty hair. He grimaced at his horrendous appearance. 'I gotta take better care of myself.' He thought, knowing that he'd never remember that. There were too many other people on earth to worry about.

Mark felt incredibly tired. He hadn't slept a full night in so long. He looked towards his door. It was tempting. Nothing would be better than just crashing down and falling asleep. Of course…when Roger came home…If he came home…

Mark made up his mind and stumbled towards his bedroom.

A few hours later the door opened and Roger shuffled into the loft. All he'd done was wander around the city for a couple hours. Thoughts and decisions raced through his head.

On one hand, he could be with Mark…he could be quite happy with Mark. Mark would treat him nicely and care about him…but there were so many risks. Roger would never be able to forgive himself if Mark got sick. Mark's heart would break in half if when Roger died, they had a more than platonic bond.

Then there was the other, safer side. He could be with Mimi. Love Mimi the best he could. Die with Mimi and never regret a single day…thereby suffering his possible greater happiness.

Roger sat down on the couch and put his head in hands. Life was too difficult. Why couldn't just one thing be simple?

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. There's more. Don't worry. I love everyone who reviews. Seriously…I feed off reviews. 


	7. Egos

Whoa. Two chapters in a row that get in on time. I'm on a roll. Its winding down though. Only 4 more chapters and one more plot bunny in my mind. Anyway, I don't want the author's note to be longer than the actual fic. Enjoy dearies. 

_…egos…_

Mark awoke in a rather unpleasant way that morning. He'd been smoking a joint with Santa Claus. Just minding his own business, commenting on how it was odd that most symbols of Christian holidays commit the crime of breaking and entering…and before he knew it he was on the cold hardwood floor. Not very pleasant at all.

Mark reached up and desperately tried to find his glasses. He placed the cheap, black, plastic frames on the bridge of his nose and waited for his vision to clear.

The first thing he noticed was that it was unusually quiet in the loft, but that was understandable to Mark when the events of the night before came flooding back to Mark with an unpleasant lurch of his stomach. He suddenly had the urge to vomit.

Mark stopped though when he came into the living room and discovered Roger laying on the couch and shivering under a thin blanket. Mark smiled as his heart swelled. Roger came back…Mark was tempted to shake Roger awake and demand an explanation for why the hell he left Mark alone after they had made love, but Roger just looked so peaceful like that…despite the shivering.

Mark went into his room and stripped all the blankets off the bed before returning to the living room and draping them over Roger's sleeping form. He couldn't help himself. He was about to leave, but instead leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Roger's forehead. Mark smiled and went into the bathroom.

Only moments later, Roger stirred, feeling very warm and oddly…happy. But…he had no reason to be happy. The past week had been the worst of his life. He'd gone to the hospital, found out he only had a year left, told Mimi, broke up with Mimi, made love to Mark…Roger stopped. Last night. He made love to Mark and then up and left. It just confused him so much. One of Roger's worst fears in life was being used and being taken advantage of. Roger had always really liked Mark…he just couldn't be sure how Mark felt. And…Roger wasn't…or…could he be? He'd never…been with a guy before last night…but…

He was jogged out of his thoughts by the sound of the bathroom door opening and immediately closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. Anything to avoid talking to Mark until he figured things out.

Mark yawned as he padded into the kitchen area. He looked back at Roger, still "asleep." Mark made some old coffee and brought a cup to the couch. He laid the cup on the nearby table and stepped back. "You know Rog." He said in a soft voice, needing to say this…but not so sure he wanted Roger to hear it yet. "I don't really know how long it was…but I've loved you for a long time…I don't know yet how you feel, but last night hurt me a lot…I just…I don't wanna get hurt and I don't want to hurt you. I just…I don't know what we should do.

Roger knew, he'd finally figured it out. He cracked an eye open and saw Mark standing by the window with a cup of coffee in his hand. "Marky…" He whispered. Mark abruptly turned his head, a nervous look on his face. Roger sat up and wiped his sleep deprived eyes. "C'mere." Mark hesitantly and slowly moved over to the couch. The place that this whole mess began. Roger reached out his hand and looked Mark in the eyes.

"I'm…I'm sorry about last night." He said, turning red. "I was just…scared." He looked over at Mark to judge his reaction. "You were scared of me?" Mark's voice wavered with hurt. "N-no…I could never be afraid of you." Roger moved closer to Mark. "I'm afraid of hurting you…I'm afraid of this not working out…I'm afraid of getting you sick." Mark bit his lip and nodded. It still didn't make much sense. "I wanna be with you." He said softly and Roger's heart lifted. "I wanna be with you too." A smile touched his lips. He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Mark's lips. "We'll make it work baby…" Mark whispered. "Don't worry"  
A/N- D'awwww. For more fluff, review


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